


An Argument

by Charlie_Bucket



Series: A House For Winter [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Fluff and Angst, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Misunderstandings, ooc probably, they're dumbasses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24569521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Bucket/pseuds/Charlie_Bucket
Summary: It starts off as a small spat, something entirely forgettable, and spirals into ridiculous worries and horse-whispering.Or: Geralt and Jaskier are renting a cottage for the winter, and they get on each others nerves.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: A House For Winter [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775875
Comments: 1
Kudos: 93





	An Argument

They've been in the small house for half a month before the peace is disturbed. And honestly, it's something small that irritates Jaskier, and his infernal whining riles up Geralt, who in turn becomes more snappish, which then upsets Jaskier, who gets louder when he feels he has been slighted, which grates on Geralt's nerves and then it all comes to a head of "Shut up Jaskier" and "How dare you Geralt" and -

"Maybe if you said more than three syllables a day, we wouldn't have these problems!" Jaskier grits out, and Geralt knows that he's using all his power not to stomp his feet like a child.

"You're always so loud Jaskier, don't you get tired of always only hearing your own voice? Because I certainly do." He retorts, and it's not his best, an old hashed out argument between the two, playful at this point, but Geralt charges it with vitriol and sneer, ripping it away from their friendly banter and shoving it back at the bard.

"Forgive me, I remember it was that very voice that got us our protection for the winter in the first place!"

"I don't need your protection, bard."

"And what, pray tell, would you have done for the winter without my help? Gone feral out in the woods like your namesakes, White Wolf?"

"I have a place to call home, this is purely for your benefit." Geralt retorts, hiding a grimace.

And Jaskier stands in front of Geralt, hands-on-hips and upset frown firmly in place, panting with the force of the argument, and the words that had spewed between them. And Geralt is about to say something, he is, but Jaskier flexes his hands, tries to hide the hiccup in his breath, lets out a small "Well, then... Well then, I'll take myself, and my benefits off your hands." under his breath, about turns, and heads for the bedroom, and there's no stomping away, no slamming of doors, but the soft click of the door closing still sounds like the death knell to Geralt.

He stands in the same spot, arms at his side, golden eyes staring at the spot which Jaskier has just vacated, turns toward the front door, picks up his thick winter coat and his swords (Because habits die hard and Geralt doesn't trust how silent it is outside) and decides to spend time with Roach. At least she won't be angry with him.

*

Roach is angry with him. Geralt knows that Roach is intuitive, and she probably can sense that Geralt feels guilty.

"He called me feral." Geralt says, his mouth almost ticking down, perhaps more upset than he let on. And at that Roach shuffles forward, nudging him amicably with her head, nipping his winter coat. "I know that it shouldn't have come to this and that I could have talked to him before it got so messy, but..." and he sighs, leaning his head against Roach's neck, "I worry that even after all the years we've been together, one day the other shoe will drop, and he'll see me for what I am. A feral animal. A monster." 

Roach chuffs, swings her head round to butt at Geralt, nipping him harder in warning, as though telling him off for his words. It brightens Geralt's dour mood. "What do you think, Roach? What's my best course of action here?" and in reply, Roach turns, lowers herself onto the hay and makes a big show of closing her eyes. "Hm, okay." 

And after stocking Roach up on oats and hay and making sure she's brushed and well looked after, he decides he's stalled long enough, and heads back inside the house.

*

Jaskier is pacing to and fro when Geralt walks in, and he stares up with red eyes when Geralt closes the door behind him.

"Oh," he says, stepping forward, hesitating, and deciding to stay where he was. "Have you... forgotten something?" 

Geralt tilts his head in confusion, staring at Jaskier who rubs his fingers together, twisting his hands into nervous shapes, staring at anything that isn't Geralt. "What could I have forgotten?" he asks

"I mean... If you're going to make the trip to Kaer Mohren, you'll need provisions. We can divide the pantry up, and you can take more obviously because it's a long way to travel, but -"

"Jaskier -" Geralt tries to interrupt, eyes wide.

"And you should take the furs too, of course, to keep you and Roach warm" and there are tears in Jaskier's voice, and he's staring at the roof -

"Jaskier -" 

"And maybe, maybe once the winter is over, we will travel again as usual of course."

"Jaskier, I don't - "

"Of course, you don't have to -"

"Jaskier, for fuck's sake I'm not going anywhere." 

"You left. You- you took your coat and your swords and you were getting Roach ready to leave." Jaskier says in a rush of air, panting as though he was running. "You said you had elsewhere to be, to call home, you said you didn't need me for anything, you said you were tired of me."

And Geralt curses himself, for his apparent ability to make his words form blades that hurt the bard. He steps forward, reaching his arms out and enveloping the bard, gathering him close to his chest, one arm around his waist and the other holding his face, cupping his jaw, his fingertips brushing at Jaskier's hair. "My bardling, little lark, I'm not going anywhere, not without you at any rate." He whispers, burying his face into Jaskier's neck. 

"Then why did you leave?" Jaskier asks.

"I was... upset. And I wanted to give us both space, so I went out to tend to Roach, and she gave me advice" Geralt admits, and somewhere in the back of his mind, it pains him to admit his feelings, to have them thrown open so brazenly between them.

"You were upset?" Jaskier asks, and Geralt can hear his pulse slowing, his heartbeat returning to its usual timbre. He nuzzles in closer to Jaskier's neck, mouthing at the skin he finds there. "Hmmm"

"No, come on Geralt, talk to me. I want to know what upset you." Jaskier intones, moving his head back and away from Geralt's questing lips, almost causing him to whine.

"You called me feral. You said I was akin to a feral wolf, and I was scared that... you would see me... as I really am."

"Oh Geralt, I'm sorry."

"Hmmm."

"No, look at me," and he pulls Geralt's head up, traps it between his hands, looks directly into his eyes, cornflower blue on gold. "I'm sorry, Geralt, I shouldn't have called you feral, it was wrong of me. But you must know that you are not an animal, nor are you some beast or monster. You are my witcher, my darling protector, and anyone who thinks otherwise isn't worth even a moment of your time." 

"Then you should know, Jaskier, there is no home for me without you. There is nowhere I would want to be than by your side. I'm sorry too. And surely you must know I could never tire of you, my little lark." And Geralt presses their foreheads together, wraps himself tightly around his bard, one arm slipping low on his waist and the other around his shoulder blades, and Jaskier, with no reservation, slips one of his into Geralt's hair, gently tugging at it until Geralt's head is in the perfect position for slotting their mouths together, sweet and passionate all at once, his other hand travelling down Geralt's back, grabbing at his arse and squeezing, laughing airily at the growl it elicits. 

And Geralt is holding Jaskier as close as possible, breath hitching when Jaskier slots a leg between his thighs, when the hold on his hair becomes sharper, more commanding, and when their kisses become sloppy and desperate. 

"I think you should make it up to me Geralt" Jaskier breathes, huskily and Geralt groans when Jaskier hitches his leg higher with this statement. 

"Jask -" His voice is a whine that Geralt will definitely dispute later on, when Jaskier mouths down his adam's apple, nipping at his clavicle, pulling his shirt loose.

"How about, you let me bend you over the kitchen table, and then the chaise lounge, and then you take me in bed, and we'll say all is forgiven?" and Jaskier punctuates this with a tongue curling around his nipple, biting and tugging at it, while his hand fondles with the other, causing Geralt to keen, well beyond any words, and Jaskier must accept that as an affirmative because he drops to his knees and soon Geralt can't even remember what the argument was even about.

*

Later, when Geralt and Jaskier are pleasantly sated, wrapped up in one another in post-orgasmic bliss Geralt's head resting on Jaskier's shoulder, his hand tracing nonsense shapes upon the bard's chest, their legs tangled together, Jaskier asks "What was the advice Roach gave you?" 

"To not be a dumbass, take myself back into the house where it was warm and comfortable and to talk to you."

"Clever girl, she'll be having sugar cubes, carrots and apples for as long as we live" Jaskier declares, before nuzzling into Geralt. Their eyes drift closed, content and warm together. 

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate any comments or feedback you might have, I'm always looking to make my writing better 😁
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope to write more soon!
> 
> 𓆏


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